Combat
by x Varda x
Summary: Rodney and Jennifer get taken by the locals. Rodney has to fight for his life in 'The Arena' while they wait for rescue. Because rescue is coming, right?


**Title** - Combat  
**Genre** - Hurt/comfort/action. Het.  
**Rating** - 15/T  
**Word Count** – ~12,000  
**Warnings** - Moderate action violence and bloody gore  
**Summary** - Rodney and Jennifer get taken by the locals. Rodney has to fight for his life in 'The Arena' while they wait for rescue. Because rescue _is_ coming, right?  
**Disclaimer** – Not mine  
**Author's Notes** - Set in S5, just before 'Brain Storm.' I think of it as a very overindulgent hurt/comfort cliché fantasy fic...

**Chapter One – Caught**

Jennifer was surprised to see Rodney come into the infirmary. Not that he didn't come there every few days for a splinter or paper cut or some other minor complaint. She immediately assumed the worst as she went over to him.

"Hey, what's up?" She gestured towards a nearby gurney and motioned for him to sit down.

Rodney frowned at her and didn't move. "You mean I have to be ill to see you?"

Jennifer stopped and lowered her hands. "No."

A flash of a dazzling smile passed across Rodney's face and then he looked away to try and hide his red face.

Jennifer couldn't help returning the infectious expression, even though he didn't see it.

He asked, "I wondered if you were free this afternoon to come offworld with us?"

"Where are you going?"

"Apparently the planet has a large market selling lots of herbs and plants. Teyla says they have medicinal properties. But I thought you'd be the best one to sort out the real ones from the tea leaves."

When she didn't answer instantly, he started to gabble, his hands gesturing as he did so, "Unless you're busy or don't want to of course. I could just get some samples or something. Maybe I could…"

Jennifer silenced him with a hand on his forearm to still his flailing. He looked up at her with a questioning, hopeful look, which made her struggle not to grin at him like an idiot. Instead she schooled her features and said, "I'd love to. I'll get my gear ready."

"Oh, right. I mean, great! That's great. Be geared up and ready to go at 2."

"Will do."

And there was that smile again, longer this time and aimed at her so that he heart did an odd jump and she really did grin back at him.

----------

Teyla spoke to Jennifer as they made their way from the gate across the desert. "The market on this planet takes place once a week in the town we are approaching. Representatives from many villages come to trade here, although I have never participated myself. The Atlantis team who visited last week arranged a meeting with the leader."

Rodney was already sweating profusely in the heat and swigged on his bottle of water less than ten paces from the gate. "Phew! Couldn't we have brought a Jumper?"

Sheppard glared at him. "People might want to trade things for it if they know we've got a ship. Anyway it's only a mile from the town."

Jennifer walked alongside Rodney and looked at him as he blithely knocked back more water. She said quietly, "It would be better to save that for later."

Rodney's voice rose in irritation, "So you're all ganging up on me now! Well don't come complaining to me about your dry throats and sunburn!"

Jennifer gave him an exasperated look and he had the decency to keep quiet while Teyla continued.

"But you must not comment or intervene despite the questionable nature of some of the activities that take place here. My people never came here and only heard about the market from other worlds."

"Questionable activities?" Jennifer asked.

"You'll see," Ronon answered with a dark look.

Rodney gulped and shared a look of apprehension with Jennifer next to him.

----------

They soon reached the town, even with Rodney's frequent sand-filled shoe emptying and complaints of heat rash and chafing. Jennifer offered to examine him, but he swiftly declined as he scratched his hip and didn't mention his continuing discomfort loudly enough for any of them to hear afterwards.

The town was well built with many buildings made of white stone along the paved streets. It was far from Earth in terms of technology though. Horse-like creatures pulled carts along the roads and many people went to and fro about their business, dressed in long white or dull brown dresses with sandals. Even the men were wearing the long cloth, much to Rodney's amusement.

The natives were all giving the team strange looks before they put their heads down and continued about their business.

"Seriously… frocks?" Rodney said with a confused frown.

"Let's the breeze in," Ronon said to him.

Rodney's face fell and he scratched his arm and then rubbed at his chest through the vest he wore. "Actually doesn't sound so bad now."

They paused at a crossroads on the straight streets they had traversed.

John indicated right, "The market's that way."

Jennifer nodded and stepped away from them.

"Hold up!" John called to her.

She stopped and spun around.

"McKay, go with Keller, see if there's any decent Ancient tech or, well, _any_ tech on sale."

Rodney nodded with wide eyes darting around the buildings.

Ronon patted him on the back, "Don't make any deals you can't keep."

John added, "It would be better just to scope it out, we can always come back next week."

----------

Rodney escorted Jennifer along the cobbled road. The buildings were bright and even with the sun beating down on them, the town was dazzling yet monotonous.

People did not trouble to lower their voices or avoid staring at the visitors now and Rodney began to feel uncomfortable. Well, more than the oppressive heat was making him.

Jennifer got closer to him and said quietly, "I thought this was just going to be a nice easy safe mission?"

Rodney barked out a short laugh, "I don't think I've ever been on one of those."

They soon reached the market and Rodney was quite surprised by the size of it and the number of stalls. It occupied a large square with each vendor fighting for space so that the gaps to walk through were narrow and crammed.

"Stay together?" Jennifer asked.

Rodney nodded, glad that she had asked first.

They walked between the stifling stalls, finding many things on sale: pots, plants, cloth, sandals, swords, nasty knives and armour, wooden furniture, food… But Rodney didn't see any technology. Jennifer was luckier though and they eventually found a stall claiming to sell medicines and herbs.

There were men around wearing helmets and the armour of a higher grade than that which Rodney had seen on sale, and red plumed helmets. Most likely the police of the market. They all eyed Jennifer and Rodney in a way which made him feel nervous.

Rodney went with her like a guard to make sure she didn't get into trouble, or try to trade him in exchange for some of the dried twigs.

He whipped out his scanner and surreptitiously checked for anything of interest. But he found no energy readings at all, only hundreds of life signs which made him feel queasy just thinking about how tightly packed all the people were in such a small space. A drip of sweat rolled down his forehead and he wiped it away. His eyes stung from the heat inside the trader's stall and he blinked to clear them.

A raised voice shook him out of his reverie. "Where is your mark?"

Jennifer replied, "Mark?"

Rodney sensed trouble brewing and went over to them. Jennifer looked wide eyed and confused.

The tradesman glared at her and then turned to Rodney. "You do not know?!" He walked over to his counter and pulled out a bell and hit it hard.

A resonant and loud chime sounded and Rodney knew it couldn't be good. He grabbed Jennifer's shoulder, "Let's get out of here!"

But it was too late. The guards must've been following them and stood outside the entrance to head them off. Rodney held up his hands, "We haven't done anything wrong! We're just here to see what you've got."

The guards drew their swords and Rodney lifted his gun up ready and saw Jennifer do the same from the corner of his eye.

"There are too many," she said so that only he could hear it.

"I know."

"They'll kill us if we try to fight."

Rodney tapped his radio, "Sheppard?"

The guards rushed them before he heard the reply, he fired one shot, but it bounced off the guard's armour and pinged into a nearby pot, ending its saleability with a loud smash as it turned to shattered pieces.

Rodney was disarmed and punched a few times as he tried to reach Jennifer. One particularly hard jab into his solar plexus left him without breath and his strength waned. He struggled after his gun and radio were taken, but was soon subdued by a blow to the head.

Through the haze between unconsciousness and awareness, he kept an eye out and was grateful to see that wherever he was being led, Jennifer was also with him. She was helping him to stay upright, there was a gash on her face and her features were pinched with worry.

"Wh-what's going on?" Rodney asked breathlessly.

"I don't know. But those things Teyla told us to turn a blind eye to… I think we're about to find out what she meant."

Rodney cracked his eyes fully open and glanced around. They were surrounded by guards and the market had taken a more sinister appearance around them. They hadn't seen this part of it earlier. Men and women and even children were locked in cages being sold like they were nice pots or cloth or herbs like before.

But Rodney and Jennifer were led into a large stone building at the end of the street. The first thing Rodney noticed was the smell and he had to swallow quickly to avoid being sick. Not that it had been without odour outside, but the enclosed space of the cold and deeply shadowed stone walls around them trapped it inside.

The second thing Rodney noticed was the sound. There were cries and screams close at hand, and cheers and jeering like a large crowd further away which made Rodney's heart clench in fright.

"That doesn't sound good," Rodney breathed into Jennifer's ear as she held him when he stumbled.

"I have to agree," she said with eyes shining wide and fearful in the dark.

The third thing Rodney saw was the room they had now entered. It was candle lit as there were no windows at all. The sounds were quieter in here, muffled by the walls. It was warm, but not as hot as it had been outside. Rodney welcomed the cooler air, but not the fear gripping him. That Sheppard had not let Jennifer go to the market alone was not lost in significance to him – he had been sent with her as protection, and he'd let her down, and Sheppard too.

The guards halted and Rodney and Jennifer did likewise. A man sat behind a table in the room, which slowly slid into focus as Rodney's eyes adjusted to the light. He was wearing armour like the guards, but no helmet. He eyed them for a moment and then approached Rodney.

Rodney pushed himself up to his full height and ignored the stab of pain in his head and from the bruises he'd got in the struggle a few minutes ago. The new man looked into his eyes for a moment, and as Rodney gave him the best defiant glare he could, the guard narrowed his eyes.

Rodney asked with a voice that wavered in time with his heart beat, "Who are you and what do you want? We only came here to trade!"

The guard said, "Show me your mark."

Rodney frowned, "What the hell are you talking about?"

He frowned and nodded to the guards around him. Rodney hit out as they grabbed his right arm, and a knife appeared. He struggled and saw Jennifer being grabbed and held still next to him. The blade glinted in the dull candlelight as he was held immobile. The man wielding the knife merely used it to cut off Rodney's sleeve right to the shoulder. He took Rodney's upper arm in a crushing grip and he squeaked, but his new found strength was not enough against all the men holding him.

"There is no mark," the guard confirmed and they let him go.

Jennifer received the same treatment, but remained still to avoid the knife cutting her.

The guard regarded Rodney for a moment longer. "So you are telling the truth. In that case, you are only good as slaves."

Rodney gritted his teeth, "We came here from another world. They'll come for us and your stupid cages and primitive swords and armour won't be able to stop them!"

The lead guard came over and sized him up with his eyes, which gave Rodney a bad vibe. "Perhaps the Arena instead then?"

Jennifer cried, "No! Let us go and we won't come back again, I promise."

"Women are not allowed to fight, so you will be a slave."

"Let her go, and just take me," Rodney found himself saying.

"Unacceptable. You come here, unmarked and expect to be freed?" He chuckled humourlessly. "I think not."

"Then let us stay together," Jennifer said.

"_Jennifer…"_ Rodney warned.

"Just for a few days, or you don't have a deal."

"You are not in a position to bargain."

A thought suddenly crossed Rodney's mind, "But it's the afternoon and the next market isn't for a week. You'd never be able to sell her now. Anyone who came for what they wanted has already got it and left."

The guard pondered his words for a few seconds. "Very well. But you will fight and she stays caged."

They were soon led away back into the warmer and noisier and smellier corridors and rooms. Rodney now knew that the screams were of pain and horror and hopelessness and they sent shivers crawling across his skin and a coil of heavy dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know what 'The Arena' was, but it didn't sound any good and certainly not a place where he would be using his mind for anything.

He was subjected to a humiliating processing procedure, and despite his struggles and punches, Jennifer was taken away from him. "That wasn't part of the deal!" he cried, and was smacked in the face again for his troubles. They took his clothes, but at least left his boxers in place. He was glad he'd picked out a plain pair of dark blue ones today. He was given sandals and two small wooden bowls.

He was then tossed into a cell so small that his claustrophobia instantly gripped him. He was pushed to the floor and each of the bowls were filled, one with water and the other with a sloppy porridge. He then had one ankle manacled to the chain attached to a ring in the floor. The guard kicked him in the ribs for good measure, making him cough and close his eyes in pain, before he left and the barred door slammed shut behind him.

Rodney clutched his midsection and winced. But his own fear and pain were outweighed by worry for Jennifer. If only he knew she was alright, then it would make the situation slightly more bearable.

He sighed and crawled over the dirt floor to the bowls and sipped the water before sampling the porridge. He gagged and spat it out. He wasn't hungry enough for that kind of punishment. Yet.

Jennifer soon joined him and the cramped cell lost even more space. Even in his fear though, Rodney felt a tight knot inside him loosen ever so slightly, knowing that Jennifer was unharmed. She had been clad in one of the long, shapeless white dresses and if it weren't for the direness of their situation, Rodney would've called her stunning, even in the dull light.

She wasn't shackled and came over and sat down next to him after the guard had gone. She eyed the new bruise on his bare chest and Rodney lifted up his hands to cover himself.

"How're you doing?" she asked in concern.

"Better now, but not so optimistic for my longevity. They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"No. Barely laid a finger on me. I think they'll get a higher price for pristine goods."

"Oh, that's good. Well, not good that you're going to be sold, but that they don't want to do anything."

Jennifer gave him a small smile and then glanced down at his near-nakedness again and furrowed her brow, "What about you? They hit you a few times when we were taken."

"Bashed about and bruised up. Nothing I can't deal with."

Jennifer reached across and took his hand in her own, and Rodney was so shocked at the contact that he let her.

She squeezed gently and said, "We won't have to wait long before the others realise what's happened and bust us out of here."

He felt pleasant warmth spreading up his arm from her touch that was nothing to do with the temperature inside the cell, and even in his terror he relaxed a little. He was embarrassed to be so scantily clad and trapped in front of her, but she was sitting next to him where they faced to door of the cell together and not really looking at him, which eased some of the humiliation he felt.

----------

**Chapter Two - Round One**

They did not have long to sit there in a companionable, but a terrified silence for Rodney. His heart leapt up into his throat when the lock clanked and the door swung open.

Jennifer stood up and tried to block them from getting to Rodney, but he knew as well as her that it was futile. They shoved her aside and grabbed Rodney. Hauling him to his feet and unlocking the restraint around his ankle. He fought and shouted at them, but they were too many.

He was led to a room full of arms and armour filled with the stench of blood and fear and sweat. But they didn't give him anything before forcing him up a ramp and into a tiny alcove and sealing him into the pitch black. He felt around in the dark, but there were only four very close walls surrounding him.

Panic took hold and he started to hyperventilate. What if this was solitary confinement? Maybe he'd have to stay in here for hours or days?! The air was running out and he pushed at the solid brick and wood around him.

Wood…?

He knocked on the surfaces. Two were wood, the one behind and one in front. He didn't have time to figure out the significance of that before the second wooden door was pulled up and he was blinded by sunlight and deafened by noise.

He shut his eyes and covered his face until his sight adjusted, but the sounds stayed at full volume.

He blinked around and saw that he was standing at the edge of a fairly large, sand covered arena.

"Oh, god!" he muttered. "Gladiators. I'm _so_ dead."

There was another man in an alcove opposite him. He didn't have any armour or weaponry either.

"Hand to hand," Rodney said in a high pitched, trembling voice. "It's going to take ages to die."

The door behind Rodney suddenly slid open and a hard shove between his shoulder blades sent him sprawling. He coughed and spat out the sand when it went in his mouth and shoved himself upright.

It was hot as the sun beat down on him and Rodney felt his bare skin blistering in the heat.

The man opposite was approaching, his hands already bunched into fists and a look of intense concentration and violent intent in his eyes.

Rodney got himself into a fighting stance and brought up his own fists. This level of humiliation was in no way what he'd signed up for all those years ago. He wanted labs and technology and minions. There was nothing in his contract about scantily-clad, bare-fist fighting for the entertainment of crazy wannabe Romans in another galaxy.

The man hit out and the crowd cheered. Rodney blocked the first punch and the second, but the third caught him in the mouth and he tasted blood.

"Okay, fighting back now," he told himself.

He threw a few punches at the other man, who ducked and blocked and then kicked Rodney in the shin.

He staggered backwards and limped. "Ouch! What the hell did you do that for!?"

The man backhanded him in the face again.

"The head, the head! Not the head!" Rodney cried as his vision filled with stars and he felt an impact to his gut knock his breath out.

He was losing. But if he lost, there'd be no-one to protect Jennifer in that cold, damp cell all alone. He steeled himself and ignored the pain to stop his limp. He spat the blood from his mouth onto the sand and hit back. It was dirty and brutal and bloody, and Rodney tried to ignore the fact that this man could well be just like him – an unwilling participant in this insane show.

It wasn't like sparring at all. This guy was hitting him really hard and it _hurt._ He wanted Rodney dead, well, perhaps not _wanted, _but _needed,_ if only to save himself.

But they couldn't both win.

A loud cheer rose up and Rodney heard two metallic thumps from either side of the arena.

His opponent shoved Rodney away and he stumbled and fell. The man ran towards one side and picked up a short sword. Rodney scrambled backwards in panic and got up to his feet. He looked to the other side and ran unevenly over to find out what he'd been given.

"A shield? Great."

He hefted up the heavy sheet of metal and gripped the handle with a hand slippery with sweat and blood. Ignoring the aches and pains in his body he faced the man coming at him and stood ready to valiantly defend himself for as long as possible.

He blocked the first swing, aimed at mid-height to cleave him in two. The shield reverberated with a sharp clang that bruised his hand and travelled up his arm.

He didn't move the shield in time to entirely block the second swing. He'd backed off enough so that only the tip of the blade cut a shallow, stinging path across his chest. He cried out in pain and shock as his blood flew out and splattered into the sand, but he still managed to get the shield up in time to avoid being decapitated.

The crowd were braying now and ooh-ing whenever he avoided another blow. "Screw this," he thought, as the sword missed him, but his opponent used the hilt while Rodney was recovering to hammer a heavy blow into his temporarily unprotected midsection.

He switched hands and swung the shield up with all his remaining strength to whack the man in the face.

The man staggered backwards from the blow and dropped the sword as blood flowed from his nose and he blinked in a daze.

Rodney sunk down to his knees in the dirt and clutched his middle as he struggled to breathe around the blow he had just taken. He watched as the man fell down and moaned.

Guards came out and stood around them, relieving them of their weapons. Rodney watched as his opponent was dragged away. He still seemed to be alive, so Rodney hadn't killed anyone, but he realised in that moment that if he wanted to survive another round, he would have to learn to fight back straight away, even if it meant that he would have to kill to stay alive himself.

He sagged in the grip of the guards as they hauled him back through the door and down the corridor. His body had spent all its energy reserves and he felt shaky and weak as the adrenaline wore off where it had been created from fear of imminent death and having to literally fight for his life. The pain from all the abuse was also taking its toll, so when he heard the door to the cell open, he allowed them to push him inside and he fell forwards and landed on his belly.

They didn't even bother to chain him up this time.

He found that he couldn't move at all as his sight dimmed. He closed his eyes and let the darkness claim him and wash away all the terror and pain.

----------

Jennifer's heart pulsed in her throat when the guards came and took Rodney away. She tried to stop them, but to fight would be suicide and all they had to do was to wait long enough to be rescued.

She heard half whispered shouts through the walls, and thought she heard cheering that made her heart pound in fright. What were they doing to Rodney? Would he ever come back? The cheers were not of mirth, but of glee at suffering and she hated it, yet she couldn't do anything to stop what was happening.

An age later and the door clanged open again and a bloodied and pained-looking Rodney landed face-first on the floor and lay completely still. The door slammed shut and Jennifer quickly went over to him.

She asked tentatively, "Rodney?" But he didn't respond.

She could see that he was still breathing and his back was covered in dirt and sand. She quickly swallowed her apprehension and grabbed the water bowl. She checked Rodney's limbs for breaks, and his back for any serious injury. Finding none, she rolled him over and gasped.

He was covered in blood, even more garish upon closer inspection. She tore some cloth from her dress and used it along with some of the water to clean away all the blood and muck, keeping the water in the bowl unspoilt. He was covered in bruises and scrapes. The deepest of which was a cut making blood slide down his pale chest, and a large, ugly and painful looking bruise covered his side. Half of his face was swollen and his lip was split and bleeding down his chin.

She patted the unhurt part of his cheek and called softly to him, "Rodney? Can you hear me? Wakey wakey."

She rested the damp cloth on his forehead and his eyes gradually opened and she watched as he went from dazed and quickly progressed to being fully aware and in pain.

She took his hand again, the right one which looked unhurt, it was the only comfort she could offer and he closed his eyes tightly as his breath hitched. She put her other hand in his hair and threaded her fingers through the matted strands as she held him and gently stroked to calm him down. It seemed to work, because his face smoothed ever so slightly and he was able to open his eyes again.

She asked, "You lost then?"

"Actually, I won," he replied in a tight and hoarse voice.

"Really?"

"Yes, I think if I lost, I'd be dead now." He continued heavily, "Nice that you have such confidence in me though. Thanks."

"Hey. They can't make you fight again for at least a few days with these injuries, right? And by then, Sheppard will have shown up and got us out."

Rodney coughed and winced. Jennifer helped him roll over onto his side and he choked into the dirt on the floor. She let him sip at the precious water and helped him to sit up and shuffle to the edge of the cell so that he was leaning back against the wall. He canted over to one side and she sat next to him and reached across his front and held his chest to stop him from falling. He flinched and released a short huff of breath from the touch.

"Sorry, sorry." She quickly adjusted her grip so that her arm was across his back with a hand around his shoulder to hold him next to her in a half hug. "Better?"

"No, but it's easier to breathe sitting up."

"I didn't feel any broken ribs, but that doesn't rule out bruised and cracked ones. Without any of my gear I'm a bit stuck though. How do they feel?"

"Broken," Rodney said sadly.

There was that cut on his torso too. It was still steadily oozing, but Jennifer had nothing to use as a bandage. He needed a scan to rule out internal injuries, but he also needed stitches and antibiotics and painkillers.

All she could do was hold him gently to avoid all the bruises and move closer so that they were touching. He moved his hands into his lap and tried unsuccessfully to bend the bruised/possibly broken fingers of his left hand. He let out a low moan and grimaced as he moved the offending hand up and held it to his chest.

"I don't feel so good," he whispered softly.

Jennifer looked across at him and saw more blood had come from the chest wound since she had last cleaned it. She felt light tremors running through him transfer to her grip.

"It shouldn't be too much longer before the cavalry arrives," she said as though she really meant it. But it had already felt like it had been far too long and infection was a real possibility in these less than sterile conditions.

Rodney started to shiver and his breaths came in shaky gasps and wheezes, loud to Jennifer who was sitting so close. She untangled herself from him and helped him to lie down on his side. The floor was hard, but he didn't complain. Didn't say anything at all in fact, which was worrying in itself, but there was nothing she could do to help him.

She sat down behind him and placed her hands on his unhurt back, hoping the touch would quiet him and allow him to rest in sleep at least.

Once his breathing evened out, she allowed her own fear to creep back up on her and it clutched her heart tightly.

----------

**Chapter Three - Round Two**

When Rodney woke up a while later, he was able to eat some of the gloopy porridge, claiming that he was so hungry he could eat the dirt on the floor if it came to that. Jennifer quickly managed to persuade him away from that type of thinking.

He was still in a lot of pain and weakened from his injuries, but after he'd got some food in him, he lost much of the shakiness and seemed more alert than earlier.

Of course, he complained about the lack of rescue and Jennifer shared his concerns. It had been far too long. The mission was on a six hour check in, they'd probably been there for at least an hour before they were captured, and she didn't know how long they'd been in the cell. It felt like hours and hours, but it may have been longer, may even have been shorter. She had no idea without her watch, or any natural light to guide her estimation.

To her horror, the guards came again.

She hit out at them, but was soon grabbed and tightly held as they manhandled Rodney to his feet. He looked at her with his eyes wide in fright as he spoke, "Jennifer?!"

"You can't take him," she aimed at the guard nearest to her. "He'd too badly hurt from the last round of this insanity."

The guards increased the tightness of their grip and one said, "Three rounds, one survivor. It is the way of the Arena."

She could only watch as Rodney was forced out of the cell. He hissed and stumbled, but couldn't do anything but comply or his life might well be forfeit right there and then.

Jennifer sunk down to the floor after they'd left her and tried to control her breathing. She knew she might never see Rodney again now, at least not alive, and it cut her to the core.

----------

Rodney was once again led to the preparation room, but instead of just going through it, he was made to stand there while he was fitted with a helmet. A strip of rough cloth was wound around his midsection before a thin leather breastplate was strapped on. It weighed him down and pressed horribly against his injuries, but it should at least protect him from the worst of it this time.

To his increasing horror and fear, he was also given a weapon, the blade only about two inches long and the handle much longer, like a spear, but with a guard so that the stabs couldn't be too deep.

"Draw it out for as long as possible…" he thought in terror.

As he was shoved up the ramp to his fate he turned back and asked, "What, I don't get a shield this time?"

He added a bruised kidney to his growing list of complaints.

An idea struck him and he swung the weapon round at his captor. But the guard was faster and lifted up his arm and blocked the attack with the metal plates wrapped around his forearm.

Rodney's reward for that little attempt was the loss of the helmet and a breathtaking punch in the belly from a steel-clad fist, but at least he could hear and see and move his head quickly now, even if he couldn't quite breathe yet.

He clutched his lower abdomen as he was shoved into the alcove and the door slammed shut. The weapon he held slipped in his sweaty grip and he clutched it tighter, ignoring the flare of pain in his fingers from the last round.

When the door in front swished open this time, Rodney stepped out and quickly readied himself in the bright light and onslaught of heat. The adrenaline rush kept the pain at bay and allowed him to move, but he knew he'd pay dearly for it later. If he even survived that was.

He was met by four similarly clad men this time, and a fifth who was decked out in metal armour and had a sword and shield.

Rodney eyed the man and mumbled, "How unfair is that?"

A booming voice rang out above him from the stadium, "Only one may leave!"

Rodney knew it wasn't going to be him. How was he supposed to kill five men with the useless little poking stick he'd been given?!

He kept to the edge as two men dressed like him had at each other. One stabbed away, but missed, and the other aimed at the neck. And hit. Blood spurted from the loser's slit throat and the crowd screamed and whooped as he collapsed down into the sand, twitched for a few seconds and then lay still.

"Oh, uhm, okay. That's one way to do it," Rodney said in a squeaky voice.

The armoured man easily cut the victor down with the sword and the sand beneath his ruined body turned red.

That left three and much to his terror, one of the men spotted Rodney and rounded on him menacingly.

"I don't want to fight you," he said in a shaky voice.

The man glared at him intensely and swung the bladed stick round. Rodney blocked it and the blow slid off the end of his weapon and sailed harmlessly past. He gabbled, "We have to work together or that guy with the real sword will kill us all, one by one."

The attacker thrust the weapon forwards dead centre, and Rodney couldn't block this one or move out of the way as it punched through the leather and pain exploded where the cold steel stabbed him.

He screamed and staggered backwards, still looking at his attacker, whose two inch blade was now tinted red.

The well armed and armoured man approached them and Rodney drew alongside his foe and they became allies for a few minutes as they fought with the cheater.

He was slow and every move was heavy for him, so Rodney and his assailant were able to dodge out of the way, even Rodney with all his injuries managed to avoid the blow aimed at him.

Rodney landed heavily and rolled over in the grit and turned to watch as one man distracted and the other used his blade at the base of the armoured man's neck to flip off his helmet and slice his now unprotected throat. In his desperate movements, the sword tip caught Rodney's former assailant in the face and both men went down.

One soon became still as blood seeped out and was absorbed turning the sand into a gory red mud. But the other one screamed and writhed unpleasantly, clutching his face where blood flowing out between his fingers, the weapon long forgotten on the ground. The shrieking made Rodney's heart pound so fast that he became light headed from the horror of it.

The last man standing picked up the sword and brutally stabbed it down into the writhing one's chest with a sickening crunch. The blade got stuck and he couldn't retrieve it to use on Rodney.

Rodney scrambled to his feet and bent double at the waist as fiery tendrils of pain coursed through him from the stab wound. He looked down and saw blood was running down the front of the leather armour from the small slit the weapon had made on its passage into him.

But he couldn't let the pain affect his movements or defence, as the man rounding on him was covered head to toe in blood. None of it his own.

He was easily as tall as Ronon and Rodney quaked inside in anticipation of how much his imminent death was going to hurt. And that if he wanted to live, he was going to have to kill.

The man taunted him unpleasantly, "Little man, why are you the only one now left?"

But Rodney wasn't going to stand for verbal put downs along with the very more real and painful physical ones, "Clearly I'm better than the others, or I wouldn't be, blockhead."

The man growled in rage and Rodney couldn't help the fearful whimper that left his lips. His eyes were so wide they began to hurt, but he ignored that as the man circled him.

The crowd were mostly silent in tense anticipation of what was about to happen.

The man pushed his blade through the air towards Rodney, but he stepped and swung his body sideways to avoid it. He used his own weapon and the momentum of the attacker to catch him under the arm and blood sprayed out onto the sand. The man grunted, but instead of slowing him down, it enraged him and he ignored the blade in favour of whacking Rodney with the stick part of the weapon.

Rodney shielded his head as the blows caught him in the arm and chest, then moved down and smacked his side and hip. All the while he stabbed out, until one lucky strike broke the guard off his weapon and the blade sunk all the way into the other man's chest.

"Oh, my… no!" Rodney gasped as the man collapsed down into the red sands, blood bubbling from his mouth and choking feebly where the weapon was still embedded in his body.

Rodney went over and crouched down next to him, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't die!"

The man glared at him with gritted teeth frothing blood and moved his hand down to his waist. He swiftly moved it up and punched Rodney right in the gut.

There was a feeling of ice and then a sharp pain in Rodney's stomach, and he found himself struggling to breathe so much that he slipped down to the ground and curled around this new and intense agony radiating through him.

He heard the crowd cheering and booing and then sensed motion through the pained haze and red surrounding him.

It became darker and he knew he was back in the armoury. But instead of being led back to the cell, he was lifted up and placed on a hard slab, his hands and feet strapped down so that he couldn't move.

So they were going to torture him now too? Wasn't he already suffering enough!?

Rodney could smell metal and fear but also something oddly plant-like in the gloom. There were voices around him, and his heightened senses let him hear every word.

"He won?"

"Yes, but there is one more round to go and he is the only one left to fight the champion."

"These injuries are severe, I'm not sure…"

"Heal him, or you will take his place."

"Very well."

Rodney blinked up at the man looming over him. He slowly slid into focus as Rodney's eyes became accustomed to the dull light. It was the same man he had seen earlier in the herb stall. The one who'd alerted the guards and made this nightmare start.

"You!" he gasped.

The man whispered to him, "You've been stabbed. The last one had an illegal weapon concealed, a small, thin blade without a handle which is still lodged in the upper portion of your abdomen. I will need to remove it."

A gag appeared above Rodney's face and the man said, "Bite this."

Rodney didn't really have a choice anyway as it was shoved into his mouth. He saw the flash of light on an instrument too similar to pliers for his fear before there was a pull and a sickening wet sound. The sharp sting in his side erupted into blinding agony, making his world explode into writhing and screams.

He pulled on the bonds as the man removed the armour plate and cloth before he packed some of his plant material into the open wounds and then bound Rodney's middle in strips of tight cloth.

He was made to drink a foul liquid that nearly had him choking around the harsh rasps of breath he was drawing in to keep him alive, but it merely made him feel warm and sleepy and heavy. They clearly did want to torture him, if they gave him the drug _after_ the agonising, barbaric medical procedure.

He was moving again after that, but he no longer knew about his surroundings, or cared much.

He then landed in a heap on a hard surface, and had no qualms about letting the world around him dissolve into black.

----------

**Chapter Four - Round Three**

Jennifer knew Rodney was in a bad way when he was returned to her the second time. She crept over to his still form where he lay on his side and gently touched his forehead, which made his eyes flutter briefly, but stay closed.

He was wrapped in tight bandages already visibly stained, even in the dull light. The only clothing covering his modesty was soaked with blood where it had run down over his belly. His face scrunched up and his breaths increased in speed.

She murmured to him, "Rodney, it's okay, it's okay. I've got you."

The door to the cell clanged open again and a guard tossed in a small cloth bag and shoved a larger bowl of water along the floor. He glanced at Rodney and then turned to Jennifer. "If he's not ready to fight in two rotations, what little life he has left will be taken."

Jennifer swallowed hard and said, "My kit, the things I came in with, I need them to help him."

The guard leered at her and then slammed the door again.

Jennifer scrambled across the floor and snagged the bag. Taking the bowl of water with her, she went back over to Rodney's side. He'd moved his legs so that he was curled up on his side, but his eyes were still shut and the only expressions he showed were of untold pain and deep distress.

Jennifer asked, "What happened out there?" She dug through the bag and found bandages, but nothing more. "I heard screaming."

Rodney coughed and his lower jaw trembled. "Me. That was me. I don't think I've got long now."

"Shhhh. You're being very brave." She rested a hand on his shoulder and very slowly rolled him over so that he was lying on his back. His arms moved up around his middle and he hugged himself.

Jennifer said, "Let me see."

He winced and glared at her as he replied hotly, "How will looking at it help?!"

"Show me and maybe it will."

He gingerly lowered his arms away and she worked quickly to check his injuries. She was horrified to find two stab wounds in his abdomen, along with widespread bruising. It made unmarked skin difficult to find in amongst the myriad technicolour shades of black and blue. One of the penetrating injuries was only visible as a small puncture on the surface of his stomach, and both had been packed tightly with plant material. She didn't know what it was, but left it in as it seemed to be helping to slow the bleeding and stop an infection taking hold.

She bound his midsection tightly and he moaned. She then sat behind him and pulled his upper body off the hard floor so that she could hold him to her chest. Wrapping her arms around him loosely, she planted a slow kiss into his hair, not being worried or disgusted by the state he was in or how he smelt of blood and grime, dirt and animalistic fear at such close proximity.

She could feel that his tremors were worse than earlier so spoke into his ear which was now right next to her lips. "You're safe, Rodney. Try to get some rest and I'll be here with you when you wake up."

"R-ready for t-the final r-round?"

"We'll be rescued by then."

"N-no. I'll be dead."

She let him slide down until his head was resting in her lap and leant forwards so that she could lay another kiss on his forehead. His eyes opened and he looked up at her curiously. She couldn't help but smile, even as her eyes went blurry with tears. "Not if I can help it."

One more shudder went through Rodney and he shut his eyes tightly, and then his face went slack as he passed out.

Jennifer heaved him up into her arms again and hugged him the whole time, his breaths coming in less of a wheeze at the upright angle. He was warm and heavy and trembling, but she ignored the biting ache in her arms to be this close to him.

If these truly were his last hours, she wanted to make the most of them.

----------

When Rodney next woke up, he was in more pain than earlier. Whatever drug they'd given him had clearly worn off.

But he could feel a gentle pressure around his upper body and joining together in the centre of his bandaged midsection just above the worst of what his body was enduring. He opened his eyes and glanced down and saw that the pressure was in fact a pair of arms encircling him.

"Hey," Jennifer's voice whispered right into his ear, making him jump and wince. "How're you doing?"

"Great. It just hurts a little bit."

The hands lightly ran in a back and forth motion over his chest and he found them both soothing and grounding. She said, "You made it to the final then?"

"Final?" He asked sleepily. "Oh." His mind suddenly reeled with the memories of the fights and blood and terror.

Footsteps in the corridor beyond shook him out of the dozy calmness. "I'm going to die. Jennifer…"

He pushed himself away from her with a gasp and curled around the pain in his belly. He shimmied along the floor until he could turn and face her. She was looking at him in shock, but he met her gaze evenly. "Look. I know this will be my last…"

"Don't say it."

"S-so, I'll never get another chance to say…"

She was there too quickly for him to pull back and sealed her lips over his in a kiss, cutting off his words. Well, that was one way to shut him up. His eyes widened at first and then closed as he gave into her and she ran her hands down his back and drew him into a full hug. Which hurt, but it was worth it to have her arms around him one last time.

She pulled back and smiled sadly at him with shining eyes. "I said _don't_ say it. At least not yet. Tell me later."

"Oh, come on! Even you don't seriously think I'm in any condition to survive another round in that… that ring of horrors. I don't think I could live even if they didn't put me out there again, what with infection and starvation."

She held the sides of his head and tilted it towards her so that she softly kissed his forehead. She then ran a trail of gentle kisses down his face. She landed one on the end of his nose before claiming his mouth again. Her face was truly wet with tears now, and he found his own eyes stinging.

The door clanged open and it was like another blade had stabbed Rodney - in the heart this time. He was pulled up and away from her and although he saw her fighting and called out, "Don't hurt her!" they still managed to restrain her as they took him away.

Rodney put his head down as he was once more dragged along the corridor, to his death this time. He could hardly move his legs and the pain in his middle was cranking up to the screaming level again. He settled for moaning incoherently and wishing he was still in the cell with Jennifer. Or even better, back on Atlantis in a nice infirmary bed with drugs and nurses and his computer.

He was shoved onto the hard slab again, but not tied down. The herb seller from earlier appeared again and he looked frightened at the state Rodney was in. Rodney didn't like the look in his eyes. It spoke of hopelessness and fear, which did nothing to reassure Rodney of the state he himself was in.

A guard barked, "Make him strong enough to fight, or you know the consequences."

The man forced another bowlful of foul tasting liquid down Rodney's throat and he gagged and spat, but his nose was held until he had to swallow it in order to breathe.

The man force-feeding him the liquid said quietly so that only Rodney could hear, "You'd better not die, this is my best and most expensive medicine."

That made the tight knot of dread in Rodney's chest ease a little – perhaps not so much because the man really cared about his own hide, but that his selfishness actually helped Rodney for once. But Rodney's fear increased tenfold at the same time, because the herb man had to use his best stock to even give Rodney a chance.

Rodney felt warmth and fire spreading through his veins almost instantly. His heart sped up and the pain diminished. He felt strong, but more terrified than ever from the effects of the drug, and what his body was no longer telling him about the damage.

"There. He's ready to fight."

Rodney was pulled upright and the armour came out again. This time he was given a fully enclosed helmet, so that the world was only visible through two small slits. Plates were strapped to his forearms and lower legs along with the one pressed onto his chest and into the wounds. It hurt, but whatever that drug was, it either dulled the pain, or dulled his mind so that he no longer cared about it.

Surely using drugs in competitions of physical endurance was illegal? Clearly these people didn't care too much as long as they got a good show and one person was hacked to pieces in bloody flare. Him in a couple of minutes, no doubt.

He was given a shortsword and a shield and shoved up the ramp into the alcove again for the last time.

His breaths were heavy and shaky and noisy within the helmet but his claustrophobia was the least of his concerns as the door pulled up and he went out into the arena to face his certain painful and horrific death.

How had it come to this? The most intelligent man in two galaxies in physical combat to the death? Out of all the ways he thought he would eventually die, this hadn't even made the very morbid and very _long_ list.

The light was dimmer, either because of the helmet he wore, or the lateness of the day. The sand had been turned and raked over, but it was still dark brown in places from the earlier bloodshed. He knew that somewhere, some of it was his blood and it made him feel sick.

Rodney looked all around the ring, but he was alone out there. The crowd were talking noisily in excitement and it made Rodney's heart quake and legs tremble. Either that or it was the drug…

The announcer shouted out above the noise of the crowd.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, and honoured guests. I present the final round of today. Only the bravest, most daring and skilled fighters make it this far."

Rodney whimpered in terror, the sound bouncing back and amplified in his helmet.

"And only the best warrior will leave with his life. I present, competitor number one. Beaten down, but not defeated!"

Rodney couldn't help but smile a little as the crowd cheered for him. He raised his sword and they cheered louder.

"But here is the undefeated champion, the one who no man has yet to strike a blow against today."

Rodney's knees trembled as he mumbled, "I'm a dead man." He felt tough with the armour on, but his foe was similarly clad and moved easily without any visible discomfort or hindrance at all.

The crowd's cheers were louder, and Rodney was a bit put out, but he was soon preoccupied as his opponent came nearer. The other man was about the same height and his face was also hidden.

He rushed at Rodney, who only just managed to deflect the first blow with his shield in time. His arm smacked against the underside of the shield from the heavy impact, but the plate he wore largely protected it from shattering the bones in his forearm.

The man went past, but elbowed Rodney in the back as he did so, sending him to his knees.

The crowd cheered and whooped at Rodney's pain and he was sickened and horrified that they were entertained by it. The assailant circled round the front and before Rodney could gather enough of his waning strength together to stand, he was kicked in the chest, which definitely did transfer through to his abused ribs, and he fell backwards.

The more he suffered, the louder the cheers became and the crowd were braying and shouting for his blood now.

"Jennifer…" he gasped through dull eyes and clouded vision. He rolled over as the blade flashed down and was embedded in the ground right where he'd been a fraction of a second ago.

He pushed himself up and charged at his opponent, shouting all the time and ignoring the pull of his wounds in his desperation. He slammed into the man as he was still tugging the sword out of the sand and they both went down. Weapons and shields were quickly lost in the tussle.

Rodney's attacker won and ended up on top of him. He drove his knee into Rodney's armoured midsection to keep him pinned. He then brought his hands down and wrapped them around Rodney's neck and pressed until Rodney couldn't breathe and his sight dimmed as he struggled and weakened.

"I really don't want to kill you," the man said.

Could've fooled Rodney… He choked and blinked. He looked to one side and caught sight of the unprotected place where the forearm plate was strapped onto his attacker's arm. There was a band of black cloth there. A sweatband? He frowned and pushed with all his might to loosen the strangle hold for a fraction of a second so that he could cough out, "John?!"

The pressure was released from his neck but Rodney was too badly injured to keep fighting anyway.

"What? How do you know my name?"

"Sheppard…" he gasped. "Knee…"

"Oh, right." The pressure on Rodney's middle was lifted away and he coughed and rolled over, drawing in a shuddering breath through the tightness of his bruised throat.

The crowd booed and hissed.

Rodney lifted his hand and pushed up the visor of his helmet.

"McKay!? We thought you'd been taken as slaves!"

"Apparently not," Rodney whispered as he struggled to stay conscious where he lay.

"We got caught, but only Ronon and Teyla were deemed to be good slave material. I got sent here to fight."

John reached down and helped Rodney upright. The crowd were screaming in rage and boos echoed all around the arena. "Jennifer!" Rodney said. "She's back in the cell. You have to get her out."

"There should be a Jumper inbound by now, we're way overdue to check in. We just have to wait until then."

"I'm not sure I can. I've been stabbed and beaten and cut up and stabbed again."

"You're still talking though, so it can't be that bad."

Rodney winced where he was leaning heavily on Sheppard. "I'm not sure. Did I mention I've been drugged too so that I can't really feel it?"

"No, you didn't."

Doors opened all around the edges of the arena and several guards and sharp toothed creatures the size of tigers came in.

John grabbed the weapons and handed one to Rodney while he shouted, "Back to back!"

Rodney complied, but he was finding it hard to concentrate and stay upright. The drug seemed to be wearing off because that was definitely pain he was feeling in his stomach.

One of the animals rushed at Rodney and he struck it with the sword. It still had some fight in it though and pushed him down so that he landed heavily on his back in the dirt. It went for his throat with its teeth and Rodney screamed. John intervened and smacked the creature in the face with his shield and then killed it with the sword.

A whine above the sound of the crowds could now be heard.

"Oh, thank goodness," Rodney mumbled.

John grabbed his hand, but Rodney couldn't move at all. "Leave me."

"Hang on just for a few more minutes, McKay."

"I… I can't move," Rodney said as he spread his hand out on the armour plate hiding the extent of his injuries.

John stood over him and beat down two more oversized, snarling animals. One caught his arm and he cried out before striking out with the blade and cutting it open.

All the while Rodney felt his life ebbing out of him and his heart and lungs labouring to keep him alive.

The Jumper landed a few metres away, but kept cloaked. The crowds were confused and panicked by the downdraught and noise of it. Guards and animals alike ran into the sides and bounced off dazed. The ramp lowered and marines came out with stunners flashing at the guards and animals and knocking them down.

"Jennifer!" Rodney cried as he was loaded onto a stretcher and carried into the safety of the spaceship. "She's in a cell back in that hellhole!"

"It's alright, Rodney," John said as he helped the field medic remove Rodney's armour plates, while a marine tried to bandage John's clawed arm. "A team is already halfway there. You can rest now."

"N-not until I know she's safe."

The medic started an IV line and oxygen, and Rodney's breathing was eased further once the heavy plate was removed from his chest.

A few agonising minutes later and Jennifer came stumbling into the Jumper, whole and unharmed. To Rodney, she was radiant in beauty even though her face was grubby and the dress she wore was torn and baggy in all the wrong places.

She smiled down at him and helped the medic get antibiotics and painkillers in him so that he was comfortable enough to drift off to sleep.

The last thoughts Rodney had before he fell unconscious were of relief. Jennifer was safe, even if he was going to die from his injuries, at least she was safe.

----------

**Epilogue**

Rodney was unconscious in the infirmary for several days after his return. His condition wasn't helped by the fact that John had nearly choked the life out of him too, but his other injuries were far more serious.

Ronon and Teyla had been picked up by a second rescue Jumper within minutes of John, Jennifer and Rodney's own liberation. Although Ronon had already worked his way free from the slave cages and caused quite a ruckus.

Jennifer had been too exhausted to help with Rodney's surgery, and she was no longer sure that she could remain emotionally detached ever again around Rodney who spent so much time in the infirmary. She wondered whether he came there so often just to see her, until she checked through his records. No, his attendances were consistently high throughout the time he had spent on Atlantis.

She was off duty now and had managed to shove an incredibly guilt-ridden John out of the infirmary for a while so that she could be alone with the sleeping Rodney. She peered into his face nervously, the bruising from all the hits he'd taken was slowly fading to reveal more and more overly pale skin. Two fingers of his left hand were splinted and wrapped, most likely suffering breaks from the shield he had used to prevent sword strikes to his body. His whole midsection was swathed in bandages, from his hips right up to his armpits.

He had come so close to death. Jennifer held his unhurt hand more tightly and unnecessarily brushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead.

Despite his frequent fear and the honesty of his words and expression, or perhaps because of them, she couldn't help by be drawn to him. Even with his lopsided mouth, soft belly and fiery sarcasm, she wanted to be near to him as much as possible, to run her hands all over him and claim that mouth in her own. But he was still badly hurt and to do that now while he was getting better would be to take advantage.

Rodney's face twitched and she felt her heart rise in hope. His eyelids slowly opened and a glimpse of blue met with Jennifer's own eyes. He croaked incoherently and she gave him some water before gripping his hand in both of hers. For the first time in days he actually squeezed back and then gave her a small smile before falling asleep again.

She straightened out the thin white sheet covering him and then stood up and placed a tender kiss on his forehead, lingering for slightly longer than she had intended. He had saved her life, and no doubt her dignity too, by insisting they stayed together on the planet and then by fighting for as long as he had. If he hadn't been with her, she would probably be someone's prized possession locked in a room somewhere. Or worse.

John returned a few minutes later and Jennifer felt uncomfortable to remain while he was there with Rodney. Like she was an unwelcome intruder in their friendship. So she soon left.

----------

Rodney woke up properly another day later. He was cranky and dosed up on painkillers and all manner of other drugs to help him heal.

He glanced around with bleary eyes and saw John looking at him pensively. The first words John said were, "I'm so sorry, Rodney. We tried to rescue you. I thought you were just another warrior they'd sent out to kill me."

Rodney lifted his broken hand up with a wince. He tried the other one and rubbed at his bruised neck. He spoke hoarsely back, "I think they knew, and covered our faces on purpose."

"I nearly killed you!"

"I was about to die anyway."

"Sorry."

Rodney furrowed his brow, "How could I hold it against you, when the last thing I remember is you shoving an overgrown kitty off me?"

John brightened, "I brought jello in case the verbal apology wasn't enough."

Rodney smiled despite the pain he was feeling through all the drugs. "Nothing says sorry more than food related bribes?"

John smirked and fished it out of the bedside cabinet and placed it on top. "When the queen of the infirmary lets you of course."

Said queen came over a few minutes later and checked the readouts on all the machines surrounding Rodney's bed. She looked at him in concern, "How are you doing?"

"Well, the company and the drugs are good, but the entertainment could do with some work. Can I have my laptop yet?"

Jennifer pursed her lips, "Not until your abdominal injuries have healed or you might get stuck in here for a few more days."

Rodney didn't think he'd mind that as long as Jennifer was on duty, but he looked down at his lap and grimaced.

He felt a pressure on his shoulder and looked up to see that it was Jennifer's warm hand holding him. She gazed at him with eyes full of an emotion he couldn't quite place – was it gratitude? Fear? Pity?

She said, "The plant matter they used on you helped to not only stop the internal bleeding, but prevent infection too. But it was only a short term solution and the surgery took longer than usual to clear it all out."

"So he really did use the best stuff on me?"

"Yes, but if left untreated you would've died within a few hours."

Rodney felt downcast, "Just enough for me to put on a good show in the last round."

John said, "But we did, didn't we?"

"Yes, I'm sure my being strangled was highly entertaining."

But he was smiling as he said it and John's face went from guarded and slightly apprehensive, to relieved.

Jennifer squeezed Rodney's shoulder once more and then left.

----------

As Rodney slept and his injuries healed, he often half woke up to find a hand clutching his tightly. The warmth spread up his arm and settled over his heart to calm him.

Once, he managed to open his eyes and find it was in fact Jennifer with him, holding his hand even while she herself was asleep. Her head was resting on the edge of his bed and her hair spread out around her face as she breathed deeply.

Rodney smiled and drifted off again.

---------

A while later, when Rodney had finally been released from the infirmary and allowed back to work on light duties, Jennifer caught up with him in the labs.

"You missed your checkup," she said sternly.

"I've been a little bit busy what with having spent so much time without a laptop." He aimed the last part at her with a scowl and Jennifer frowned back at him.

"If you want to use a laptop in the infirmary, don't get stabbed in the stomach."

Rodney folded his arms with a huff and wince before he shot back indignantly, "Because I had so much choice over where they were aiming."

The lab around them was silent as the scientists all watched the fireworks between them. Jennifer went over to Rodney and grabbed his upper arm tightly.

"Not here," she hissed into his ear.

He shook her off angrily, but followed anyway. She was pleased to see that he was able to keep up with her pace, and although he moved stiffly and held his middle, he barely showed any pain.

She led him to the infirmary and he huffed. "So a quick prod, I tell you it hurts and then you let me go again?"

Jennifer indicated one of the beds. "Something like that."

She checked him over and prescribed him some more painkillers after she was done with the physical examination. "You're doing well, Rodney. I should be able to sign you off to resume normal gate activities in the next couple of weeks."

He glared at her as he tugged his shirt back on and stood up.

Jennifer frowned, "What's wrong?"

He straightened up with a huff. "I'm not sure."

"Well then why are looking at me like that?"

"How long has it been since the planet, since all this?" He gestured to himself and the infirmary.

"A few weeks. Why?"

Rodney sighed and his face smoothed out and then fell in sadness. "A few weeks. I remember what happened in the cell and since I got back, even though I was pretty out of it."

He didn't meet her eyes as he looked down at the floor nervously. "What happened wasn't _nothing_, even if you haven't said anything about it since. Had it been Sheppard or Ronon, or even Teyla, stuck in that cell with me, somehow I don't think they'd have done the things you did to keep me going through it."

Jennifer felt her heart rate increase and warmth spread out over her face. _"Rodney…"_

He looked away and waved her off, "No no. It's fine. But you _did_ kiss me. Do I need to be at the verge of death for you to do it again? Or even acknowledge that you did?"

Jennifer went over, but he backed off before she could reach out and touch him. She said, "Of course not! It's just, I wasn't sure whether I'd get another chance, that's all."

Rodney held out his arms with his hands open towards her as he met her gaze unwaveringly. "Well, I'm all chances now, thanks to you."

Jennifer couldn't help but smile at his surrender and when she went over to him a second time, he didn't pull back. She ran her hand down the side of his face and he closed his eyes.

He reached up and took her hand in his and kissed the back.

Jennifer's smile broadened and then she drew her hand away until the contact was lost. "Perhaps not here though, as I'm still on duty."

Rodney's eyebrows rose and he gave her a wide-eyed hopeful look that spurred Jennifer on. She asked quietly, "Dinner tonight?"

Rodney beamed at her. "You might have to remind me, but I'd love to! I mean it'd be good, yes yes."

Jennifer grinned at him.

After he had gone, she spent the rest of the day smiling to herself as she imagined what the evening's events would hold with her and one Rodney McKay.

----------

Fin


End file.
